


Winchambers (Prompts and Such)

by MazylHarie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel will likely pop up sooner or later, F/M, Mentions of Sam/Marin, mentions of Charlie Bradbury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MazylHarie/pseuds/MazylHarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just some little Winchambers fics, because there's not enough of it, like, anywhere. Most fics will probably be inspired by posts from imagineyourotp on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We're Okay

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little note in case anyone doesn't remember; Marin is the girl that Sam helped out in the psychward in TBAI. I'm a sucker for hopeless ships, and they're about as hopeless as it gets. But she's only mentioned a couple times right now, so it's not that important. Carry on.
> 
> Also; This kind of got away from me about halfway through and ended up not quite what the Imagine called for. But I like it. Constructive criticism is more than welcome! :)

**Imagine your OTP getting in a really big fight. Person B storms out of the house, shouting and cursing the day they ever met Person A. Person A waits by the door, waiting for Person B to come back. When they do, neither apologize. The look they see in each other’s eyes when Person B comes home again is enough to know they’re both sorry.**

            

_“You are unbelievable!”_

_“What’s unbelievable is how you let that creep get so handsy with you!”_

                The night was meant to be celebratory. Sam, after months of holding on to a lovely diamond ring, going back and forth between, “No, I am this time; I’m totally gonna do it,” and “Oh my God I can’t do it. I think I’m gonna throw up. I can’t do it,” finally grew a pair and asked Marin to marry him. Charlie was visiting and suggested they all go out for drinks to congratulate the two.

                Then, while doing (water) shots at the bar, Krissy was approached. As it turned out, she knew him. He was an artist, like her. They taken a few classes together at the local community college and seemed to sort of be friends.

                It wasn’t that Dean had a problem with them talking. I mean. Not really. Kinda. A little. It was that, despite the fact that she A), introduced Dean as her boyfriend, B), was visibly with child and, C), _introduced Dean as her fucking boyfriend,_ the minute Dean walked away, he made his move. Dean had left them to chat and joined Charlie, Sam and Marin at a table near the jukebox. Not a moment after he was seated, he looked back and the smooth son of a bitch had his hand on _his_ lady’s leg. Like, seriously? What level of fedora-wearing _douchewaffle_ do you have to be to get frisky with a _taken_ pregnant woman?

                What was worse was that Krissy seemed to be _letting_ him. Each time Dean looked over, Dude was touching her in some way; his hand on her arm, her leg, tucking her hair behind her ear... _Dick_.

                So he did the only thing he knew to do. He drank. With every shot, his jealousy and anger became stronger. That’s how they ended up here.

_“You’re so possessive!You act like I was bent over for him right there at the bar!”_

_“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded!”_

_“For your information, I told him several times that I wasn’t interested.”_

_“Yeah, it sure looked like it!”_

_“Are you seriously blaming me for him hitting on me? Do you even know how fucked up that is?”_

                Sloshed out of his mind, Dean returned to the bar, looking Dude in the eyes before pulling Krissy in for a kiss that was far more sensual than necessary, then announcing that he wished to go home and have sex.

                “Normally, she can’t keep her hands off me,” he slurred in Dude’s direction, giving a mock-friendly smile. “I’d blame it on the hormones, but she was all over me before I knocked her up--”

                “Okay!” Krissy interrupted. “I think I need to get him home; he’s gonna be wearing a killer hangover to work tomorrow. It was nice seeing you, Devin!”

_“You do like him, don’t you?”_

_“Of course not!”_

_“You made goo goo eyes at him!”_

_“That’s ridiculous! You know I save my goo goo eyes for you!”_

                The ride home was tense and silent; both parties were trying to hold in their anger, as it wasn’t very smart to get into a domestic on the road. But they both knew that as soon as they were in the door, the shit would hit the fan.

                And it did.

_“Is it because he’s younger?”_

_“... What?”_

_“You like him because he’s closer to your age!”_

_“Don’t be so insecure! If I cared about being with a guy my age, I’d be with a guy my age. I’m with you because I love you!”_

_“You’re with me because I knocked you up!”_

_“That’s not... That’s only half true!”_

_“See!”_

                Krissy had tried to stay calm. She really did. High stress levels were no good for a developing fetus. But, Christ; this man, sometimes! Had she not been pregnant, she most definitely would’ve started throwing punches. He was so much worse to fight with when he was drunk. Just like his father, from what she’d heard.

_“Y’know what? If you wanna go find lover boy and hook up with him, you are welcome to do that.”_

_“I never said I wanted that! I don’t want that! What I want is for you to... to drink some water and eat, or something! And go to bed! Sober up and stop being such a... Where are you going?... Dean! Dean!”_

                She cried when he slammed the door. Thanked God she still had Baby’s keys in her pocket. She called his phone twice, cried, called three more times, cried, screamed, then screamed again. She threw a few things (light things; she wasn’t stupid), called, called again and left a message where she cried again ( _“Dean, please. Please come back and talk to me. I love you; just, please come home.”_ ), and, finally, called Sam.

_“He’s really, really drunk and I have no idea where he went... Yeah, we fought... Pretty bad... If you hear from him... Yeah. Thanks, Sam.”_

                His intention was to cheat, to be perfectly honest. In his drunk, pissed off brain, it made sense. Get back at Krissy by hooking up with some random woman at the bar. Besides, sex was something that almost always made him feel better and Krissy was out of the question at the moment.

                There was a tall red-head dancing near the jukebox. She had a wicked rack and an ass you could sit a cup on, and she was winking at him as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Dean smirked and winked back, raising his whiskey glass to his lips. Really, though, he wasn’t feeling it. Rather, he was forcing it. Really, he wanted to go home and sleep, but pride and JD wouldn’t let him. He was actually grateful to feel a hand on his back and hear his brother’s voice telling him that he was cut off for pretty much ever.

                The windows in the car were rolled down, letting the cool air in to, hopefully, help Dean sober up. (When did he get into a car? This is Sam’s car, right? Were they going to the bunker? He missed his bed at the bunker. His and Krissy’s bed was nice, but it wasn’t memory foam. Haha. Foam is a weird word. Foam. Fooooaammmm.)

                “S’Kris mad?” he asked.

                “Probably,” Sam replied, honestly.

                “Ssshhhhit.”

                Dean dozed off a little, felt when Sam undid his seat belt and helped him out of the car. (Oh. He was home. Balls.) Krissy’s voice seemed miles away as she fretted over him when Sam laid him on the bed of the hideaway couch. A pillow was placed under his head and a blanket thrown over him and he snuggled into it. He heard Krissy thank his brother several times before Sam left. Then his shoes were being removed and he could hear her muttering under her breath.

                “... can’t believe you... worried sick... not good for the baby... stupid son of a bitch...”

                The bed dipped under her weight and soon, she was under the blanket with him, her head on his chest. Things were quiet for a while; only the sounds of Dean’s breathing and Krissy’s occasional sniffling penetrated the silence. (Oh, God. He hoped she wasn’t crying. He couldn’t handle that in his current state.) She spoke first.

                “Dean...”

                “Mm.”

                “I... I wasn’t--”

                “I know... I didn’t--”

                “I know.”

                Slowly, he turned his head and placed a kiss on her forehead. He hoped this meant they would be okay.

                “... You better not throw up on me, dickweed.”

                Yeah. They were okay.


	2. Sonova Betch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine your OTP has a young child who one day, unknowingly, says a swear word. Person A is horrified and scolds the child, making sure they never repeat it. Meanwhile, Person B can’t stop laughing.

                “Son ‘va betch!”

                Krissy dropped the plate she was washing; it fell to the floor and shattered with a crash. She turned to her three year old son who had dropped the ice cream bar he’d just been given, a mixed look of shock and anger plastered on her features.

                “What did you just say?” she asked as calmly as she could manage. Lee looked her straight in the eyes and answered her like it was nothing. To him, it wasn’t.

                “Sonova betch!”

                “ _Lee_! That’s a bad word; don’t ever say that again! Where did you hear that?”

                The boy looked confused. “Daddy.”

                Krissy sighed. Of course he’d heard it from Dean.

                “Ba’ word?” he asked, frowning.

                “Yes; bad word. Don’t say that anymore, okay?”

                “Oh... Okaaay... Mama, can I hab a new i’ cream, peese?”

                The ice cream was replaced and cleaned up from the floor and Lee was sent to watch cartoons, his mother still frowning as she continued the dishes.

                Dean was _so_ gonna get it.

 

* * *

                                     

                “Do you know what your son said today?” she asked when the three of them were sat down for dinner.

                “‘Zepplin rocks?’” Dean joked, taking a bite of mashed potatoes.

                “If only. ‘Son of a bitch.’”

                Dean nearly choked laughing. “Are you serious?”

                “Ba’ word, Mama!” Lee scolded.

                “Yes, it is a bad word. We learned that today, didn’t we?”

                “Yep!”

                “I can’t believe I missed that!” Dean chuckled. “Little man’s first swear, and I was working on a hopeless junker!”

                “It’s not funny, Dean.” The Missus fixed him with a cold glare.

                “It kinda is, though."

                “I don’t know how many times I’ve asked you to stop cussing around him, Dean. I don’t want him thinking it’s okay for him to talk like that at his age. What if he goes to day care talking like that?”

                “Lee, don’t use words like that outside this house, understand?” Dean chided him.

                “Don’t use them _at all_!” Krissy corrected.

                “Right, yeah.”

                After clearing things up, their dinner went back to normal. Krissy asked about Dean’s day at the garage; he asked about the painting she’d been working on; Lee rambled about the finger painting he’d done while Mama was painting. He seemed to do more talking than eating.

                “What’s wrong, sweetie?” his mother asked as she took his plate, which was still occupied by butter noodles. “You didn’t like your noodles?”

                Lee scrunched up his nose and shook his head. “Tas’ like ass.”

                “ _Dean!_ ”

                “ _HA!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it was appropriate to name their son after Krissy's father.


	3. Live For Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine person A confronting person B after having a nightmare that person B died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm sorry it took so long to update, and I'm even sorrier that I only have one new chapter for you. I'll try and shape up, okay? :)
> 
> I'm actually kind of proud of this chapter. I'm not the best writer, but sometimes I write things that I'm really happy with, and this is one of them.

_“Run!”_

_Too dark. It was far too dark; even for nighttime. There was firelight in the distance, but they didn’t seem to be getting any closer to it. People were screaming and pleading; others were laughing. They were surrounded by sickening noises of bones breaking and blood spattering._

_He held her hand in his, pulling her along behind him. He had to get her out of there; had to get her to safety. She shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Should’ve been taking cover at the bunker._

_The demons were on the war path, tonight._

_“Dean!”_

_Suddenly, her hand was gone from his. He stopped and turned back. The firelight was brighter now, and he could see better than before. He thought maybe she had tripped or been caught, but she was fine. She just stood there, staring at him._

_“Come on; we don’t have time for this! We have to get outta here!”_

_“Always so brave, Dean.” Her voice was soft, but he heard her clearly. “Always wanting to help; to save. To risk your life for that of others. So determined to redeem yourself and do more good than what you’ve done bad. That’s what she likes about you. You’re a protector.”_

_“… Krissy?”_

_Her lips pulled into a smile, but it wasn’t_ her _smile. “You tell me.”_

_Her eyes went black._

_“No…”_

_“Yes! Oh, poor Dean. You always try so hard… But did you really think you could keep her?”_

_“Please,” he begged. “Please—”_

_“When have you ever been able to keep anything that brought you happiness? Everyone you love leaves you; you know that.”_

_He felt like he couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t happen. He couldn’t let this happen._

_“Now the only question is this: will you be the one to end her?” the demon teased, smirking. “To save her from me? Or do I get to do it myself?”_

_He felt something in his hand and knew it was the knife. He gripped the handle tight, looking the demon in the eye. It looked to be flinching every now and then, and Dean thought Krissy was probably kicking and screaming in there; clawing at the demon in her head, trying to take herself back or at least give the demon some grief. Krissy was strong, but the demon was stronger._

_The demon knife was heavy in his hand. It would be what Krissy wanted. But it would also be what the demon inside her wanted._

_And it wasn’t what he wanted at all._

_“Can’t do it, can you, Dean?” The demon laughed at him, taunted him with the face of the one he loved. “Here. Let me help you.”_

_Before he could protest, Krissy’s neck snapped, twisted to an impossible degree. Everything seemed to go still and quiet. Dean knew he was screaming, but he couldn’t hear it; nor could he hear the demon’s delighted laughter before it smoked out, leaving Krissy’s broken body to crumple to the ground._

_He felt himself moving, trying to get to her, but no matter how fast he ran or how hard he pushed himself, he could not reach her. Why couldn’t he reach her? He just kept running, her cold, dead eyes locked on his._

* * *

 

Dean gasped for air as he shot up in bed. Covered in sweat and tangled up in bed sheets, he tried to calm himself and regulate his breathing.

_A dream_ , he told himself. _Just a dream_.

He took a deep breath, running a hand down his face. It wasn’t the first time he’d had a dream like that. Sam, Cass, Bobby, Jody, and many others had featured in his nightmares; victims of demons, vampires, dragons and the like. But this was the first time it had been about Krissy and, as others had, it left him shaken and afraid.

Because his nightmares were never just nightmares. They were all potential futures. He was a Hunter, and losing loved ones in gruesome ways was always a possibility for Hunters. One wrong move and your friends and family are dead. He’d let that happen too many times already.

He threw off the covers and got up, leaving the room he’d claimed and stepping into the hall. The house was quiet; too quiet for his liking, even though it was the middle of the night. It made it feel empty. Moving as silently as he could, Dean made his way to the end of the hall and opened Krissy’s door. He’d expected to find her sleeping. She was snuggled up in bed, but the glow on her face from her cell phone told him she had probably been awake the whole time, playing games and browsing the internet. Such a teenager.

“Everything okay?” she asked without looking at him.

“Yeah, fine,” he lied, gently closing the door behind him. “How come you’re still up?”

Krissy shrugged and sat up, setting her phone on the bedside table and turning on a lamp instead. “I guess I don’t sleep that well without you next to me anymore.”

“Good thing I’m here, then.” Without hesitation, Dean pulled back the covers of her barely-big-enough bed and climbed in next to her.

“Everyone’s home,” she reminded him as he settled in and pulled her down with him. “What if they come in and see?”

“Then they see.” He pulled her close against his chest and held her there, her head resting in the crook of his neck. This is what he needed. To be close to her; to hear her even breathing and feel her heart beating against his.

“You’re not fine,” she said after a moment.

Dean sighed. “No, I’m not.” He should have expected her to see that. She knew him well enough to know when he was okay and when he was breaking. “Nightmare.”

“What was it?”

“I, uh… fell out of a plane.”

“Don’t be dumb.” Krissy pulled away and propped herself up on her arm, looking him in the eyes. “Tell me.”

Goddamn her and her face. She was almost as bad as Sam with the looks she gave. This particular one said, “No bullshit, Dean. I’ll know if you’re giving me bullshit.”

“It was… It was you,” he replied, honestly, this time. “You… died. And I couldn’t save you. I had a chance to do something and I didn’t do it because it meant losing you at my own hands. And then I lost you anyway, and I—”

He was cut off by her hand on his jaw and her thumb on his lips. She leaned down and kissed him next to his nose. “I’m right here, Dean,” she whispered into his skin. “It’s not gonna happen.”

“It could—”

“But it won’t.”

“How do you know that?” He pulled her hand from his face and held it tight. “We’re Hunters, Kris. Every case is a potential death sentence. We have no idea how many of us are still gonna be around five years from now.”

Krissy Chambers was always finding new ways to surprise and amaze him. There was something about being raised a Hunter—maybe it was the necessity to think like an adult, or maybe it was the inevitable childhood tragedy that caused them to grow up ahead of their time—that seemed to turn what should be average kids into wise old souls. Of everything she could have said or done, he hadn’t expected her to squeeze his hand and smile radiantly, immediately lighting him up from the inside out.

“Then we should live for Now, don’t you think?”

She left him shocked as she lay back down and snuggled against him.

“Besides, if anything happens and I do die, I’ll just come back,” she said, very matter-of-factly.

“… Oh? What makes you think that?”

“Well, the way I hear it, Winchesters have a hard time staying dead.”


	4. Terrible Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine your OTP gaming together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to link the Imagine post this came from, but i didn't save it. I do know that it comes from somewhere on imagineyourotp on Tumblr.

“ _ OH MY GOD; KRIS, SHE’S ON FIRE. OUR DAUGHTER IS ON FIRE.” _

_ “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?” _

_ “I DON’T KNOW! SHE JUST WANTED TO BAKE MUFFINS!” _

_ “AND YOU WEREN’T WATCHING HER?” _

_ “HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW SHE WAS GONNA BURST INTO FLAMES?” _

_ “WHY IN GOD’S NAME DID WE BUY A FULLY FUNCTIONAL OVEN FOR A CHILD??” _

_ “DEAR GOD; IT’S SPREADING.” _

_ “DON’T JUST STAND THERE, IDIOT; PUT HER OUT! PUT HER OUT!” _

_ “I AM  _ **_TRYING_ ** _ , KRYSTAL.” _

_ Click. Click. _

SimDean calmly walked over to where the SimChild was panicking and burning. He produced a fire extinguisher and began to put her out as Dean and Krissy watched, horrified.

“Kris…”

“Yeah?”

“We’re gonna be terrible parents.”

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcannon that Krissy 's name is Krystal because it's a pretty name and she is pretty so yeah.  
> I know, it's so short and you deserve so much more; especially those of you that had this bookmarked after the first few installments. You troopers have been waiting sooooo long.  
> Also, okay, so I have this idea for a Dean/Krissy fic that I think is really neat. I was thinking about previewing it here, but my problem is that, while I have pretty much the whole plot worked out and written down, I only have most of an actual first chapter and I'm terrible at finishing things, so I don't know if I should. I suppose if anyone is interested, I could post the preview anyway, for shits and giggles.  
> Anyway, this got kinda long, so I'll wrap things up by saying a HUGE thank you to anyone that reads this and I hope you have an exceptional day!


End file.
